


Softly Into That Goodnight

by LittleLottieWrites



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bring tissues, F/M, I hate myself, I just feel sad now, I'm Sorry, The end of season 4, Trigger warning: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 11:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLottieWrites/pseuds/LittleLottieWrites
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke at the end of the world





	Softly Into That Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot idea I've had for a little while. Please do not do variations of this at home.

Everything stopped for Clarke as she watched Raven’s rocket soar through the sky, stranding her on earth with the death wave approaching. Even after she’d told them not to wait for her, even after she’d told him to use his head, not just his heart, she’d been sure Bellamy would hold the rocket for her. When he’d gambled with his life, she hadn’t shot him.  
Now she’d gambled with hers, and she was the last person on earth.

She’d thought, in the months that had passed, after everything that had happened between them, that they’d come to care for each other, at least a little. She knew she had. Maybe…maybe Bellamy had thought she’d owed him after he’d saved her from the Grounder trap in their first days on earth. Maybe he hadn’t pushed her because he knew she wouldn’t shoot; he’d pushed her because she’d owed him a life debt, and he’d come to collect.

But that didn’t matter.

The roar of the rocket and the destruction of the earth caved back in on Clarke, and she continued to scramble upwards as she adjusted to her new reality.  
It didn’t matter that they’d left without her. She’d told them to anyway. A tiny piece of her, the girl she’d been back before she’d become Wanheda, trembled in fear. Would the wave knock her from the tower with it’s force? Would she die before she hit the ground? Would it hurt?

It didn’t matter, Wanheda told that girl. Of course it would hurt. Of course being ripped from this world, from everything she still hoped to do, from her dreams, from her friends, from the people she loved, would hurt.

But it wouldn’t last, and when she was dead, it wouldn’t matter. 

What mattered was getting the signal to the ark before the wave killed her, so that Raven and Monty and Harper and Bellamy and Echo and Emori and, yes, even Murphy had a chance.

When she reached the top, Clarke had to force herself not to stop and watch the death wave’s inexorable approach. It was the most awesome, terrifying thing she had ever witnessed in her entire life. The last thing she would ever witness.

Instead, she tried to connect the comm again. Again, it didn’t go through. The satellite was in the wrong position.

Spouting off obscenities, Clarke crawled up to the satellites and manually moved it. Sweat trickled down her spine and beaded on the back of her neck as she turned the rusted metal, desperately trying to get it to connect.

Finally, the comm beeped and turned green as the signal went through.

“Yes!” Clarke released the satellite and dropped back down on to the platform. She hadn’t even reached the unit when it went dead, the signal lost.

“NO!” Clarke stabbed the buttons, but she had to admit she had no idea how to fix it. She let out a wordless scream as she ripped the unit from the tower and flung it as hard as she could. Despair crushed her, and she nearly dropped to her knees there and waited for the death wave to come take her, a princess in a tower with no prince to save her.

Instead, she turned and started back down the tower, half climbing, half sliding. She couldn’t see where to put her foot; she was crying too hard. She could fall to her death. She didn’t care. One minute from now, ten minutes from now. It hardly made a difference at this point. 

She was mere feet from the bottom of the ladder when she slipped. She began to curl in on herself, bracing for impact, when someone caught her around the torso and set her on her feet.  
Clarke’s eyes popped open in shock that quickly turned to dread. She ripped off her now-uiselss helmet so she could make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“You’re supposed to be on the rocket,” she said, shaking her head back in forth as if to dispel his image. “I told you to go. I told you not to wait.”

“Guess we didn’t get that message,” Bellamy said, a hint of his cocky smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Although, to be fair, the rocket is definitely gone, so at least Raven listened to you.”

“You idiot.” Horror made Clarke’s voice rough. “How could you do this? Hurry. Come on, hurry, we cans till make it back to Becca’s lab and-”

“And what? There’s nothing that can save us there. And I’m not going to leave you, Clarke,” Bellamy interrupted. “Not to this. I won’t let you bear this alone.”

Clarke blinked once. Twice.

And she hurled herself into his arms, selfish relief washing away some of her fear, coupled with sadness.

“I didn’t want you to die,” she murmured into his chest. “I so didn’t want you to die.”

“I didn’t want you to, either,” he admitted, his voice rumbling through his chest in her ear. “I think I kind of thought you never would. You came so close, so many times… But it never happened.”

“Because of you,” Clarke said as the two of them sank into the snow, still wrapped up in the other. “I would have died trying to rescue Jasper if it weren’t for you.”

“We all would have died a hundred times over without you, Clarke,” Bellamy said. “It took me a long time to figure it out, but we needed you. I needed you. I always did.”

“Me, too,” Clarke whispered. She could remember vividly all those times Bellamy had been there, supporting her, guiding her, helping her. Where would she had led everyone without him to help? 

“I’m glad I got this time with you,” Bellamy said into the quiet roar. “I’m glad I got to know you. I’m glad I got to love you. It wasn’t all good, but it was worth it.”

Clarke supposed she’d known for a while what Bellamy’s motivations were. How could she not? How many people had made mention of it? Who would walk straight back into the mouth of hell for anything less?

What did surprise her was the warmth she felt at his words, the calm. She could feel death creeping up on them now, could feel Bellamy shaking beside her as the radiation poisoning accelerated. But if this was how they had to go, she was ready. 

“I love you, too,” Clarke said, echoing the words she’d first thought to herself so many months ago, words she’d tried to convince herself she didn’t mean or weren’t true. Afraid to follow the sentiment, afraid Bellamy would be the next person to die because of her. And yet, here they were. 

Tentatively she leaned back and reached up to touch his cheek. In his eyes, she could see he’d also been aware of her feelings before she’d voiced them. Maybe they’d both been afraid of the same things.

“Thank you, for staying with me,” she said. She would have preferred if he’d left, but the damage had been done. 

“Always, princess,” Bellamy said. “Always.”

The last thing Clarke was aware of was Bellamy voice in her ear, whispering to her as the world burned around them, Primfiya come at last:  
“In peace may you leave the shore. In love may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey on the ground... May we meet again.”  
_We will_ , she wanted to tell him, but Clarke couldn’t find her lips anymore. But they would. She knew it. They were Bellamy and Clarke, and that was how they were meant to be: together.


End file.
